Past
by Viskey HeroMouse
Summary: Murdock, Face and a fellow soldier from Nam reminiscing. Ok, they don't really do it voluntarily, but they start having their fun. - Homosexual relations are being mentioned.


_I don't own the A-Team and I don't make any profit with my writing... However, I'm forever grateful that they exist! - It has to be said every once in a while._ ;)

 _Also, I'll be the first to admit that this is one wildly weird. The format, the plot... everything. But it didn't want to come out any other way. I've tried._

* * *

INT. DINER - DAY

 _We see DOLORES making a full turn in the diner; it's been smashed to pieces. We see broken furniture, scattered with broken dishes, napkins, silverware. She's looking distressed, almost desperate._

 **SIMON** : _(off screen)_ Well, Dolly, looks like we're out of business.

 _As DOLORES turns toward the voice, we cut to the entrance of the diner. A man (SIMON) and a teenager, app. 14 years old, (MARTY) stand in the doorway, both sporting bruises, SIMON has a bandaged arm, MARTY carries one arm in a sling._

 **DOLORES** : We can... we...

 **SIMON** : _(Shaking his head firmly but gently)_ No, Dolly. We're out of business. This is not a safe place anymore and people know it. Robbed five times in less than five months. And it's not like they're just taking the money. _(He gestures at the broken interior.)_

 **DOLORES** : We could... Marty, would you leave us alone for a couple of minutes?

 _She gives MARTY a look that does not allow arguing, MARTY leaves. DOLORES sits down on one of the few chairs left intact._

 **DOLORES** : We could still try to hire this A-Team.

 **SIMON** : _(determinedly)_ No.

 **DOLORES** : _(desperate and also a bit irritated)_ But why?

 **SIMON** : I just don't think hiring a bunch of mercenaries can solve our problems, that's why.

 **DOLORES** : Surely **we** can't solve our problems either! _(calmer)_ Simon, don't you see we need help? _(She sighs quietly and gestures to the broken diner.)_

 **SIMON** : We've been talking to the police, it's their job to help us.

 **DOLORES** : _(angry)_ Would be, yes. But they're doing nothing. All they do is filling in a form for the insurance company, that's it. They don't even try to find the bloody bastards who did this.

 **SIMON** : _(patiently, wincing)_ Dolly, please stop cursing, you know I don't like it.

 **DOLORES** : I'll stop cursing the moment you get your ass up and do something!

 _DOLORES gets up and goes to the kitchen to get a couple of waste-bags. She starts cleaning up._

* * *

INT. LAUNDRY – DAY

 **HANNIBAL** : _(disguised)_ Missy, you have nothing to clean, you leave shop.

 **DOLORES** : But Mr. Denvers at the race track said I should meet a Mr. Lee here... today... now, actually.

 **HANNIBAL** : _(moving around, making himself busy)_ Mr. Denvers, eh? Don't know no Mr. Denvers. You got nothing to clean, you leave shop.

 **DOLORES** : Look, how about you clean this jacket? _(takes off her jacket and hands it over)_

 **HANNIBAL** : But your jacket **is** clean.

 **DOLORES** : Never mind, I want to have it cleaned anyway.

 **HANNIBAL** : _(taking the jacket and handing her a coupon)_ Is your money. One hour.

 **DOLORES** : Can I wait in here?

 **HANNIBAL** : This a laundry, Missy, not a waiting room!

 _Begrudgingly DOLORES leaves. Short blackout, then we see DOLORES re-enter the shop. HANNIBAL is gone; there's a young Chinese lady serving instead._

 **DOLORES** : Excuse me, I'm looking for Mr. Lee?

 **MISS WU** : Sorry, there's no one here of that name. There's only a Mr. Wu, who is my father, but he's on holiday.

 _Dolores sighs, pulls out her coupon to collect her jacket. It's obvious she's tired of this "game"._

 **DOLORES** : How much's that?

 **MISS WU** : _(Slightly confused)_ It's already paid for, Ma'am.

 **DOLORES** : But...

 **MISS WU** : That's what it says in the book. Look.

 _MISS WU turns the book for DOLORES to have a look._

* * *

EXT. STREET - DAY

 **DOLORES** : _(cursing softly, just to herself)_ Bloody A-Team. Who do they think they are? Bloody CIA or something? Surely could match them.

 _DOLORES thrusts her hands into the pockets of her jacket. Then suddenly stops dead. She pulls a piece of paper out of her right hand pocket. It reads: "Congratulations!"_

 **DOLORES** : What?!

 _DOLORES stares at the paper, realising what it could mean, then looks around herself. She notices HANNIBAL leaning against the lamp-post next to her car, smiling at her. When he sees that he has her attention, he pushes himself off the post and walks up to DOLORES._

 **HANNIBAL** : Mrs. Lessing, I believe? My name is Hannibal Smith. I have the great pleasure to tell you that you hired the A-Team just an hour ago.

 **DOLORES** : _(slightly confused)_ An hour ago, but...

 **HANNIBAL** : Mr. Lee was very impressed by you. _(He_ _smiles and tucks a cigar between his mouth and lights it)_ Can we go?

 **DOLORES** : _(shrugs)_ Uhm, sure, sure.

* * *

EXT. DINER, PARKING LOT – DAY

 _Dolores parks her car, the A-Team-van pulls up right next to her. The side door slides open and FACE and MURDOCK climb out._

 **HANNIBAL** : Mrs. Lessing, may I introduce Templeton Peck _(FACE nods politely and smiles charmingly)_ and HM Murdock.

 **MURDOCK** : _(making a courteous bow)_ The same, m'lady.

 _BA comes around the front of the van and raises his fist at MURDOCK._

 **BA** : Shut up foo', you're not Clark Gable or somthn'!

 **HANNIBAL** : _(unperturbed)_ Not to forget BA Baracus.

 _BA nods shortly in DOLORES' direction._

 **DOLORES** : _(matter-of-factly)_ And so you are the A-Team...

 **MURDOCK** : (sweetly) That is correct, m'lady.

 _He's making attempts to bow and kiss DOLORES on the hand but she pulls it away, staring at him, disconcerted by his strange behaviour._

 **FACE** : _(slightly unnerved)_ Murdock, please.

 **DOLORES** : _(to HANNIBAL)_ Well, maybe I should tell you what this is about, first.

 **HANNIBAL** : No need to, Mrs. Lessing. We're well informed. Your diner has been raided five times recently. You believe it's always the same folks. Let's just have a look at the battle-field, then.

 _HANNIBAL turns on his heels and walks toward the diner. BA, FACE, MURDOCK, and DOLORES follow._

* * *

 _INT. DINER - DAY_

 _The inside of the diner is now pretty empty and clean. Only two tables and five chairs are arranged in a corner next to the counter. MARTY sits there, trying to repair a coffee-machine. He's not doing too well with one arm in a sling. Parts and tools are scattered all across the table. MARTY looks up when he hears the group enter. When FACE sees the boy, a strange expression shows on his face, as if he remembered something. He can't quite take his eyes off the boy. Cross-cut between FACE and MARTY (who struggles with the machine and his sling) ending with a close-up on FACE, understanding dawning on him. He looks over to MURDOCK, who looks sort of arrogant, which is supposed to be "noble"._ _Cut back to FACE, he's obviously feeling uneasy._

 **DOLORES** : Marty, meet... _(she stops, unsure of what to say)_

 **BA** : We're friends of your parents. We're gonna help you get this mess fixed.

 **MARTY** : Hi.

 _HANNIBAL nods in agreement, MURDOCK looks around "nobly" and FACE watches him doing so, feeling more and more uneasy. Just then the door opens and SIMON enters. He obviously is in a bad mood. We see that he recognises the team at once. His attention is focused on FACE and MURDOCK, though._

 **SIMON** : Dolly, haven't I told you...

 **DOLORES** : Simon... _(Dolores meaningfully shakes her head. Simon shuts up.)_

 **HANNIBAL** : _(noticing but choosing to ignore the interaction)_ Mr. Lessing. Nice to meet you. May I introduce...

 **SIMON** : _(interrupting Hannibal)_ That won't be necessary.

 _We cut to FACE; he tenses visibly, although we see that he's doing his best to keep the facade up. He's looking over to MURDOCK again. MURDOCK looks interested, but shows no sign of recognition._

 **DOLORES** : Simon, please. They're here to help us. Don't be impolite.

 **HANNIBAL** : _(more carefully now)_ I understand your wife hasn't let you in on her plans?

 **SIMON** : _(a little frustrated)_ Well, yes and no. She told me she planned to hire the A-Team. She did not tell me that she stuck to it, even after I told her no.

 **BA** : _(looking at HANNIBAL first for reassurance)_ Mr. Lessing... You **need** help, we **can** help.

 **HANNIBA** L: If it's our fugitive status you object to, that'll be our problem, but despite the fact that we **are** fugitives, we're not the bad guys, like you think. _(At that point DOLORES takes MARTY and pulls him from the room. The boy obviously has no business hearing about fugitives.)_

 _Close-ups on FACE (looking even more uneasy now), SIMON (looking uneasy_ _ **and**_ _confused) and MURDOCK (still looking "noble")_

 **FACE** : _(with grim determination)_ No, Hannibal, I don't think that's it, or is it Simon? Simon knows we are not criminals, or so I hope. I think this is something more... personal.

 _Simon grimaces and glares at FACE, but stays silent._

 **HANNIBAL** : _(rare, but it happens, confused)_ Face?

 **FACE** : Simon and I have met in Nam. There have been... Let's say, things have happened. We're not... exactly best friends, so to say.

 **MURDOCK** : _(forgetting his antic for the moment)_ Facey, don't tell me you've pinched his girlfriend!

 **FACE** : _(angry and obviously hurt)_ Don't tell me you don't remember!

 **HANNIBAL** : _(even more confused)_ Murdock?

 **SIMON** : Face, not now, not here. This is an old story that doesn't need to be warmed up.

 **FACE** : _(still angry)_ Right.

 **MURDOCK** : _(with a big grin on his face)_ Oh, but I **loved** the mess-tent!

 _Cut to FACE and SIMON. We can tell from their expressions, that there's a deeper meaning to MURDOCK'S words, and they don't like it._

 _Cut to black_

* * *

INT. DINER - DAY

 _HANNIBAL is leaning against the counter, puffing on his cigar and looking from one man to another, waiting for an answer from somebody. BA stands at the side, also leaning against the counter, looking indifferent. FACE, SIMON and MURDOCK stand, forming an irregular triangle, looking everywhere but into the others' faces._

 _Various close-ups, there is silence for a long while._

 **HANNIBAL** : Face?

 **FACE** : _(his arms crossed, shaking his head with determination)_ Uh-uh, Hannibal. I've said too much already. I should have kept my big mouth shut right from the start.

 **HANNIBAL** : Murdock?

 **MURDOCK** : _(very seriously, as if his answer would make sense. Which it does of course, just not to Hannibal)_ Sir, the grass smelled real good. _(short pause, Murdock being lost in memory)_ Not to talk about the infirmary.

 **HANNIBAL** : I guess you won't tell me anything either, Mr. Lessing, will you?

 **SIMON** : Sorry. And honestly, I'd appreciate it if you left me and my family alone.

 **MURDOCK** : _(slightly annoyed, giving up his "nobleness" for the first time, coming back into reality)_ No way, Sim.

 **SIMON** : _(pleading for understanding)_ Murdock...

 **MURDOCK** : Sim, you've got trouble, me and my friends are experts in dealing with trouble. I don't remember you being stupid. Do you, Facey?

 **FACE** : _(irritated with the whole situation already, gets even more irritated)_ Murdock, will you stop calling me Facey, please?

 **SIMON** : Hey, guys. I know you want to help me... us. I know you have but the best intentions, but it wouldn't be wise to _..._

 **HANNIBAL** : _(frustrated)_ Ok, I've had enough of this. I want to know now, once and for all, what happened that's got you three so secretive! Face, take this as an order.

 _FACE is dropping his head and studies something on the floor, casting a suspicious look over at Murdock before he answers._

 **FACE** : Simon, me and Murdock... we were... kind of interested in the same... thing.

 **HANNIBAL** : _(impatient, clearly not satisfied with that answer)_ And?

 **MURDOCK** : _(straightening up, indignantly)_ Thing?!

 **SIMON** : _(tensly)_ Murdock, shut up!

 **MURDOCK** : _(angry)_ You don't tell me to shut up, Sim! Not **you**!

 **FACE** : _(stress audible in his voice)_ Shut up both of you!

 _Short silence, during which we see close-ups of the Threesome._

 **HANNIBAL** : Ok, can we go on now?

 **FACE** : Yeah, well... First Simon got it, then...

 **MURDOCK** : ... then Face got it. And I got it all along. _(He smiles broadly.)_ I'm one lucky guy.

 **HANNIBAL** : _(he blinks, then shakes his head. This is presumably the longest period of time he's ever been confused...)_ I still don't know what you're all talking about.

 **SIMON** : It's irrelevant.

 **HANNIBAL** : _(to SIMON)_ Not if it keeps you from accepting our help.

 **MURDOCK** : He's got a point there, Sim, ya know.

 _SIMON sighs. Many conflicting emotions show on his face, but he doesn't speak up. HANNIBAL stubs out his cigar in obvious frustration._

 **HANNIBAL** : Ok, apparently you'd rather take fifty on your back than tell me anything. _(staring at FACE, then switching his attention to MURDOCK)_ Murdock?

 **FACE** : No, no, Hannibal, that's not fair!

 **HANNIBAL** : _(slightly pissed)_ Oh, really?

 **FACE** : Hannibal, Murdock's been in bad shape these days. You won't take advantage of this!

 **HANNIBAL** : And why wouldn't I?

 **FACE** : Because it concerns not only Murdock but also me and... and a civilian.

 **HANNIBAL** : Civilian?

 **FACE** : Yeah, well... sort of...

 **HANNIBAL** : Ok, I have a deal for you: The three of you talk it out. You have two hours. BA, let's go.

 _HANNIBAL turns to leave, BA follows him._

 **FACE** : _(shouting after HANNIBAL)_ Make sure Dolores doesn't show up!

 _We see Hannibal nod to show he understood, then he and BA leave. There is an awkward silence, cuts of MURDOCK, FACE, and SIMON._

 **SIMON** : So?

 **FACE** : So what?

 **SIMON** : So, you **did** screw him?

 **FACE & MURDOCK**: (simultaneously) I didn't **screw** him! / Nobody **screwed** me!

 **SIMON** : _(making soothing gestures) W_ hoa, whoa, whoa, fellas. Cool it.

 **MURDOCK** : _(glaring at SIMON)_ I don't like your language, Sim. Just remember that I don't screw anybody and that nobody screws me. Not now and not ever.

 _MURDOCK stares SIMON down_

 **SIMON** : Sorry, I guess I've been married to Dolly for too long.

 **FACE** : _(clearing his throat, preparing for the task)_ Now can we skip the insults and talk sensibly?

 **MURDOCK** : Face, you **do** know who you're talking to, don't you?

 **FACE** : _(his patience wearing thin)_ Murdock, I've got absolutely **no** patience for your stupid games right now, understood?!

 **SIMON** : Hey, I thought, we'd skip the insults?

 **MURDOCK** : Yeah, Facey, skip the insults, don't yell at me!

 _FACE walks over to the group of tables and chairs. He sits down heavily, props his head up in his hands, and sighs._

 **FACE** : _(wearily)_ Is there any chance an old army buddy gets anything to drink?

 **SIMON** : You haven't changed a bit, Faceman. Still taking advantage of just any situation, aren't you?

 **MURDOCK** : Stop knocking Faceyman down!

 **FACE** : _(sort of rhetorically, muttering)_ Thanks, Murdock, but I can still speak for myself.

 **SIMON** : I was not knocking him down! He's just what he is and what he's always been!

 **FACE** : Can we please stop talking about **me** and start talking about **us**?

 _MURDOCK sits down on a chair opposite of FACE._

 **MURDOCK** : Sure, Facey, sure.

 **FACE** : _(close to exploding)_ And stop calling me Facey, godda- _(he bites off the rest of the phrase just in time, banging a fist on the table. He pauses, to regain control over himself and goes on carefully)_ Just don't, Murdock, ok? Don't. Not now.

 **MURDOCK** : _(with a sigh, not overly sorry though)_ 'Kay, Faceman, sorry.

 **SIMON** : Now, can we move on to the subject?

 _SIMON sits down too now, they form an irregular triangle again._

 **FACE** : _(shrugs)_ Sure.

 **MURDOCK** : Face?

 **FACE** : What?

 **MURDOCK** : What is the subject?

 **FACE** : Us! We are the subject! You, me and him over there. Didn't you pay attention?

 **MURDOCK** : All right, all right, no need to yell at me again!

 **SIMON** : STOP! This is not gonna work this way.

 **FACE** : _(letting out a frustrated sigh)_ For once I agree with you.

 **MURDOCK** : _(confused)_ What's not gonna work?

 **FACE** : _(forcing himself to patience)_ Murdock, I know you've had a rough week, but please, can you come and live in **our** reality for a just a couple of hours? Hannibal's gonna eat our heads, if we don't come to a solution.

 **SIMON** : Uhm, Face, short side-track-question: Isn't this all futile? I mean, look at him, he can't even **think** straight. How's he supposed to be able to **fight** straight?

 **MURDOCK** : _(angry and hurt that he's being ignored)_ Don't talk as if I weren't here!

 **FACE** : _(ignoring Murdock)_ It doesn't matter which way he thinks, whether it's straight or in circles. He'll do fine, when we need him to.

 **MURDOCK** : _(ironically, still hurt a bit, but obviously liking FACE's explanation)_ Thanks, Facey, that was really nice of you. – Oops, sorry, **Face**.

 **FACE** : Never mind. Can we get through with this now? Time's ticking away.

 _SIMON nods and takes a deep breath. He crosses his arms before his chest, uneasy with what he's saying next._

 **SIMON** : Ok. So... First things first: We're all... hetero... We are, aren't we?

 _MURDOCK and FACE both nod eagerly._

 **SIMON** : Then there shouldn't be any problem.

 _FACE angrily jumps up from his seat and starts pacing the empty room for a short while._

 **FACE** : That easy, huh? First you make one hell of an affair about it and now it "shouldn't be a problem". You're just something, you know that?!

 **MURDOCK** : _(surprisingly calm)_ Sim ain't some **thing** , Face. If anything, then he's some **body**.

 **SIMON** : Thanks, darlin', but it's ok.

 _FACE gives both SIMON and MURDOCK a meaningful look._

 **FACE** : _(gloating)_ All hetero, are we?

 **SIMON & MUROCK**: ( _In unison)_ What?

 **FACE** : You call all your buddies "darlin"?

 **SIMON** : _(blushing)_ Old manners die hard, I guess.

 **MURDOCK** : Yeah, they indeed do, babe.

 **FACE** : _(distressed that SIMON and MURDOCK are not taking it seriously enough)_ Would you stop this, please?

 _FACE resumes his agitated pacing, cut to MURDOCK and SIMON_

 **MURDOCK** : Sorry.

 **FACE** : _(stopping in his tracks, turning to the other two, walking up to the table and sitting down, while he speaks)_ Ok, putting the facts on the table: Simon, you've been having your fling with Murdock, and when you dropped him – sorry – left him for very honourable reasons...

 _(SIMON starts snickering, FACE glares at him)_

 **FACE** : I **mean** that! Anyway, after that and a while I got to have my fling. That's the facts. Anything anybody would like to add?

 _SIMON and MURDOCK just shake their heads, stunned by FACE's bluntness._

 **FACE** : Good. Anyone in this room want to have... sex with anyone else in this room?

 **MURDOCK** : _(giving the impersonation of a blushing schoolgirl, dropping his eyes to the table)_ He's talking about me, babe...

 **SIMON** : Thanks for the hint, darlin', wouldn't have figured it out on my own.

 **FACE** : _(Leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms)_ Care to answer my question or shall I just go, and leave you to your foreplay?

 _That remark earns FACE a playful slap from MURDOCK, but then he shakes his head._

 **MURDOCK** : Not me, Faceyman.

 **SIMON** : Me neither. I have my wife, thanks a lot. And...

 **FACE** : ... she shall not find out about your... escapades back in Nam, right?

 **SIMON** : Well, what do you think? Of course not! Imagine you were married. Would you tell her about him?

 **MURDOCK** : Hey, it's not like I'm some sort of disease, ok?

 _FACE relaxes a little, he reaches over to Murdock and reassuringly pats his shoulder._

 **FACE** : _(gently)_ Nobody's comparing you to any disease, Murdock. _(to SIMON, a little sharper)_ It was a rhetoric question, Simon. You know, when you don't really expect an answer...

 **SIMON** : Still the same old smartass.

 **MURDOCK** : _(pointedly)_ And when Dolores swears, you scold her.

 **SIMON** : _(perplexed)_ How d'you know that?

 **MURDOCK** : I just do.

 **SIMON** : _(to FACE, still perplexed)_ How's he know that?

 **FACE** : _(stifling a triumphant grin)_ That's what he gets out of thinking in circles. Can we come back to the subject?

 **SIMON** : Sure. So what do we do?

 **MURDOCK** : Well, it's obvious. We gotta make up a story. We have to give Hannibal – and Dolores, too – something they'll believe. Since we can't very well serve with the truth, as we all agree, we have to think something up. Something good.

 **FACE** : OK, so what was it I said? We all wanted the same thing.

 **MURDOCK** : _(giving FACE a look)_ Thing! I'm not sure I can ever forgive you for that.

 **FACE** : And I said that first you had it _(pointing at SIMON)_ before I got it. And Murdock was having it all along, as he couldn't stop himself pronouncing. _(FACE moans and props up his face with his hands, speaking on wearily)_ Oh, Murdock, why couldn't you have kept your mouth shut? It would be a lot easier to find something.

 **MURDOCK** : But it's so simple. It was a girl we all wanted.

 **SIMON** : Nice, but Dolly would kill me. Theoretically we were together then. She wouldn't like me having messed with another woman.

 **MURDOCK** : _(pointedly)_ Let alone man.

 **SIMON** : Or that.

 **FACE** : But Murdock's right. A girl is the only thing that makes sense. I mean, we wouldn't have gotten into a fight over a... a car or something. _(giving SIMON a challenging look)_ I'm afraid, "babe", you're gonna have to go through this. After all, had you just accepted our help, none of this would have happened.

 **SIMON** : And had you, only for once, kept your big mouth shut, we wouldn't be here either.

 _Murdock doesn't bother these accusations much but smiles, satisfied with himself._

 **MURDOCK** : Only I am innocent.

 **FACE** : _(leniently)_ You're a loon, loons can't be found guilty, even if they are.

 **MURDOCK** : Are you insinuating something, baby?

 **FACE** : _(with an innocent smile, and glinting eyes)_ Me? No, never, sweet, why would I?

 **SIMON** : Can it be this discussion runs out of control a little bit?

 **MURDOCK** : Sim's right, Face. We'd better hurry in creating that girl.

 **FACE** : Why not just take one who really existed? Like Suy?

 **MURDOCK** : But she was only a kid then!

 **FACE** : _(shrugs)_ So what? Who apart from us knows? We add a few years, a few inches, a few pounds... in the right places. Voilà! We already know all the details. And those that we don't know anymore, we just don't know anymore. Heck, it's been 15 years.

 **SIMON** : _(suddenly serious)_ 17\. Two more years for me. Or less, depending on the point of view. _(he looks sadly at Murdock)_ How could they keep you there?

 **MURDOCK** : They didn't keep me. I stayed.

 **SIMON** : Just how **could** you? You've seen so many men die. You've almost seen me die.

 **FACE** : Well, that was rather me, if I recall that correctly.

 **SIMON** : Don't be petty now, Face!

 **FACE** : _(voice dripping with sarcasm)_ Sorry, hero.

 **MURDOCK** : Hey, don't start a fight now. We've been getting along so well just now.

 **FACE** : _(immediately stepping down)_ Alright, alright.

 **SIMON** : _(changing subject to get off the proverbial mine-field)_ Ah... I'll go, see if there's something to drink in the kitchen. Anyone go for a beer?

 **MURDOCK** : Sure'd love to.

 **FACE** : If it's not too cold.

* * *

INT. DINER – EVENING

 _HANNIBAL enters the diner, BA and DOLORES following. The Threesome are sitting at the table, there are several empty bottles standing and lying on the table and the floor. They have drunk quite a lot, assuming the time. Accordingly they are pretty much beyond good and evil, and the people entering get pretty angry._

 **HANNIBAL** : _(sarcastically)_ So, I see you've had fun. Did you talk it out, or just drown it?

 **FACE** : _(looking up, and grinning stupidly)_ Hey, Hannib'l. Wanna have a beer? I guess there's one more bottle somewhere...

 **MURDOCK** : _(belching soundly)_ Shouldn't have drunk it all. Don't go too well with my medication, docs say.

 **FACE** : _(patiently)_ Murdock, you're not on any medication.

 **MURDOCK** : I'm not? Oh, what a stroke of luck. Babe, see if you can find that bottle Face mentioned.

 **SIMON** : Don't get cross with me, but look for yourself. My eyes don't work too good at the moment. _(he widens his eyes, like checking his vision, then closes them tightly)_

 **DOLORES** : Simon! What's all this about?!

 **SIMON** : _(calm due to too much beer)_ Don' worry, dear, 's alright. Everything's just fine.

 **MURDOCK** : Yeah, Dolly, dear. We're just celebrating our reunion. _(He gives her a big grin)_

 **SIMON** : _(cheerily)_ Exactly.

 _DOLORES eyes her husband, not sure what to make of him. Then the other two, not sure what to make of them either._

 **FACE** : Anyone wanna join in? But there's only this one bottle left... I don't know... Guys, we wanna share this bottle?

 **MURDOCK** : Only 'tween the three of us.

 **SIMON** : Yeah, after all, it's **our** reunion, not theirs.

 _HANNIBAL shakes his head, then turns to BA and DOLORES._

 **HANNIBAL** : Whatever your problem is, Dolores, we can't start work before tomorrow. I guess you can see why... _(he thumbs at the Threesome)_

 **DOLORES** : _(confused by the situation)_ I... I don't understand... Simon's not a drinker, usually.

 **BA** : We were all different in Nam. It catches up to him now. He'll be ok by tomorrow morning.

 **HANNIBAL** : Yeah, not counting one hell of a hangover.

 _HANNIBAL and BA chuckle as they leave with DOLORES. FACE, MURDOCK and SIMON remain._

 **SIMON** : _(to MURDOCK)_ Hey, darlin', maybe if you help me looking, I think I got some more bottles somewhere down the basement.

 _MURDOCK and SIMON get up, steadying each other on their way to the basement door, stumbling through the empty room._

 **FACE** : If you two don't come back within the hour, I know what to think of you. Heteros my ass.

 _All three snigger at that, SIMON and MURDOCK having momentary problems to snigger and walk at the same time, but soon they precede. FACE lifts a bottle and empties it. Fade to black._

* * *

 _ENTE_


End file.
